


Every moment

by galaxylove



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, Fluff, a little bit of teen soul searching, also samo need happy fics lol, midnight adventure, this was pure self indulgence btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 18:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxylove/pseuds/galaxylove
Summary: And now she was here, halfway across the town in the dead of night with the moonlight guiding them, slipping down shortcuts Sana didn’t even know existed and parts of town she’d never even been to before. All she has is Momo’s fingers between her own as reassurance, but that’s all she’s ever needed.





	Every moment

**Author's Note:**

> tiffany voice: ay, i know it's been a while
> 
> (thank you to eli and jett)

   

   She should have said no, really.

 

  This train of thought runs through her head every time, mind you - a blaring repetition in a perfect imitation of Mina’s voice telling her over and over that yeah, she _definitely_ should have said no.

 

  She’s never really paused to take it in and really _think_ about why the default voice in her head becomes the younger girl whenever she scolds herself, or tries to reason with herself. It  _could_ be her brain’s last ditch attempt to actually get her to listen. Disappointing Mina was something she avoided at all costs, knowing the younger girl only ever wanted the best for both her and Momo, and would actively discourage their self-discovery fueled escapades if she knew about them.

 

  “ _I just want you two to be safe.”_ It’s a phrase she’s heard a lot, words laced with transparent concern and usually murmured after a drawn out, resigned sigh. Guilt floods through her body every time, knows that the pair of them cause their self-professed baby far more stress and worry than should be possible for a seventeen year old girl who’s just trying to make sure her friends don’t end up hurt, or in jail.

 

  Mina’s voice in her head sounds so far away when Momo pulls on her hand impatiently at her daydreaming though, tugging the two of them excitedly across the empty, poorly lit parking lot just past midnight, and the concept of safety disappeared the moment Momo’s big, pleading eyes appeared in the corner of Sana’s window about twenty minutes ago.

 

  It’s an old habit, one developed from long summer nights where the sun only started to set long past bedtime, and Sana and Momo were both thrumming with far too much energy to even think about sleep when they could play together a little longer. There’s an old drain pipe that runs just along the wall outside Sana’s window, and Momo learned the not so hard way that it was actually very easy to climb.

 

  Firm knuckles rapping on her window jolted her from the beginnings of sleep. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be irritated; not when Momo’s waving at her with a dorky grin and gesturing for the window to be unlocked, Sana complying with a stifled eye roll and wincing when the older girl rolls into her room with a loud thud.

 

  She has the audacity to tell Sana to shush afterwards, finger pressed to her lips as they both wait there with baited breath for footsteps that never come, as though it was Sana who collapsed onto the floor with all the grace and tact of a newborn foal trying to stand for the first time. They wait another minute just to make sure; the only answer is her father’s soft, rumbling snores down the hallway, and the sound of the wind in the trees outside, and Momo’s breathing slowly returning to normal.

 

  “Come on.” Her whisper floats across the room, stepping on careful tippy toes (the floorboards creak, she makes sure to avoid the third one from the right) over to latch onto Sana’s wrist.

 

  “What do you mean ‘come on’?” She whispers back, knowing full well what Momo meant. All these years meant precious insight to each others inner thoughts and feelings, and knowing reactions and intentions before each other even knew what they were going to say or do.

 

  Momo’s inner thought process was one of the most fascinating things Sana had ever seen. She was entirely transparent - if she wanted to do something, she did it. No hidden intentions or misguided notions. Sana was no stranger to a hand slipping into her own wordlessly, or a sleepy body crawling into her lap and dragging her hand into her hair expecting to be petted. Momo was gestures and actions, was never very good at explaining her feelings with her words if Sana was entirely honest, but the arm loosely wrapped around her waist when they walked side by side said a lot more than words ever could.

 

  The older girl flicks her on the forehead, slapping a hand over her mouth at the sharp squeak that escapes as she does so and her head whips towards the door so fast Sana can’t help but giggle behind the hand against her mouth. All Sana can focus on is the smell of Momo’s favourite shower gel as she breathes, mixed with something old and a little metallic and it hits her suddenly that the hand over her mouth had been wrapped around that grimy old drain pipe only a few moments before.

 

  She pushes the older girl away and rubs at her lips desperately, fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at the knowing smirk on her face when she realises.

 

  Momo takes careful steps towards her wardrobe as she tries futilely to feel clean again, easing the door open as carefully as possible before rummaging through the hangers. Sana doesn’t bother to catch her favourite, old blue hoodie as Momo flings it across the room, letting it dangle on her shoulder as a pair of socks follow shortly after.

 

  “Come on,” Momo says again, now rummaging through her drawer and tossing a pair of shorts at her impatiently, making her way over to the shoe rack by her bedroom door as Sana just watches her incredulously, “You can’t go out in your PJ’s.”

 

  Defiance flares up in her chest.

 

  “Who says I’m going out at all?”

 

  Momo barely bothers to give her a dignified response, just raises an eyebrow as she picks up a pair of black converse from the rack. It’s all comfortable and easy clothing she’s picked, though Sana isn’t sure that a lot of thought went into this outfit choice for her - decisions inspired more by Momo’s natural excitement and eagerness to go wherever it is she wanted to take her.

 

  She _is_ dressed similarly though; in the faded, purple hoodie Sana had let her borrow three summers ago and had never gotten back, and a pair of sneakers and wearing the distressed jean shorts she’s _pretty_ certain have a hole in the front but she can’t tell with the way the hoodie dwarfs Momo’s frame.

 

  “Look outside the window.”

 

  Sana does as she’s told, treading lightly until she’s looking out at her backyard. She can faintly make out Momo’s rucksack in the moonlight, clearly containing something related to the girl’s impromptu plan and waiting for it’s owner to return.

 

  “Are you gonna get changed or not?” Momo’s getting impatient now, arms folded stiffly and face set in a tiny frown, hardly noticeable if not for the little furrow that appears between her brows, staring at Sana expectantly.

 

  Momo is simultaneously the biggest constant in her life and also the most unpredictable. In that, Sana knows everything about her - her favourite food, the fact that she wants to move into the city when she grows up and share an apartment with someone new and unexpected, and that it takes her at least seven minutes after she wakes up to hold any sort of conversation.

 

  But she’s also an uncontrollable spark in Sana’s chest, setting off fireworks and streaking explosive colours across the sky whenever she grabs Sana’s hand and expects her to follow, dragging her to anywhere and nowhere with little more than a stray thought and the desire to share the moment with her.

 

  Just her.

 

  She’s a powder keg ready to explode, impulsivity wrapped intimately inside a deceptively tiny frame that leaks out at the most unpredictable times and coats everything around her in a thick layer of excitement and anticipation.

 

  (Which always includes Sana.)

 

  The fuse is getting shorter, and Momo crosses the room and the distance between them and starts tugging Sana’s pajamas off of her herself, throwing the oversized t-shirt somewhere near the laundry basket in the corner and pulling the hoodie over her head none too kindly. She doesn’t pause to think about how readily she accepted her fate, even lifting her arms up so the older girl could pull them into her sleeves easier. Momo plucks the shorts up next but Sana snatches them from her hands too fast to be playful, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as the older girl looks at her curiously.

 

  “I can do this myself.” She mumbles quietly, ignoring the grin of victory that spreads all the way up to Momo’s eyes until they disappear, sliding the pair of shorts over her legs and tugging them into place around her hips to fasten the button.

 

  “I’ll be waiting outside.” Momo whispers cheerfully, clambering out the window a lot more carefully than she’d came in, until Sana could only hear the dull ring of shoes scuffing against the drain pipe and the clink of something metallic shifting in Momo’s bag when she slings it onto her back.

 

  So she’d tied her shoes quickly, grabbed her phone from her bedside table and set an extra alarm just in case the first one didn’t wake her up in the morning and ignored Momo’s outstretched arms promising to catch her in favour of shimmying down the pipe instead.

 

  It had barely been a second since her foot found purchase on the ground and her hands detached from the pipe before Momo’s tiny, slender fingers interlaced easily with her own, clasping her hand tightly and already pulling her excitedly to wherever the night wanted to take them.

 

  And now she was here, halfway across the town in the dead of night with the moonlight guiding them, slipping down shortcuts Sana didn’t even know existed and parts of town she’d never even been to before. All she has is Momo’s fingers between her own as reassurance, but that’s all she’s ever needed.

 

  Their footsteps are loud in the silence of the night, thudding mutedly against the asphalt fast enough to match the rhythm of her heart beating in her chest. She wonders where it is Momo’s taking her that has her this excited. It must be important if they haven’t slowed their pace since they started, jogging hardheartedly across empty roads and skipping along the sidewalk.

 

  The grip on her hand doesn’t falter throughout, squeezing tightly at the car alarm that goes off a few streets away that makes them both jump in surprise.

 

  A constant inconsistent. Yeah, that was Momo.

 

  Summer’s coming to an end, the night’s drawing in much earlier than Sana would like but the air is still warm and pleasant, wrapping around her bare legs familiarly as she takes long strides to try and keep up with Momo’s fluctuating steps. There are fewer street lights the further they go, mostly relying on the ever present hazy glow of a town that never sleeps and the moonlight to guide them.

 

  They must be close now, for Momo turns around to flash an infectiously excitable smile at Sana, the light from the moon barely illuminating the part of her face that her hood doesn’t cover and casting deep, dark shadows on the rest. It’s enough that she can see the light reflected in her eyes though, can see the unmistakable exhilaration shining back at her. She doesn’t know if it’s from the thrill of being out after curfew; from sneaking away from home and traipsing down dark alleys like a hometown vigilante on some all important mission, or even if it was just from the comforting heat of Momo’s hand in her own and the upbeat tune she was humming under her breath as they jumped over empty train tracks together (she thinks it might be Britney, wouldn’t be surprised).

 

  But Sana feels it too. The same, genuine wonder at not knowing where she’s being led to, and she knows this is the closest she’s ever going to get to seeing the world through Momo’s eyes.

 

  She would give _anything_ to wear a pair of Momo tinted glasses, just for a day - just to gain the smallest bit of insight as to how the girl she’s known since she was nine and new to the neighbourhood with a big ol’ gap where her front teeth should have been saw the world. Everything was big, and wonderful - she saw even the smallest of events and happenings as something to be remembered and cherished, and brushed off bad news and misfortunes as nothing more than a tiny blip on whichever path she took.

 

  There were a lot of paths, all new and different and every one just as exciting as the last. Nothing stayed the same - except the minor detail of Sana always being by her side.

 

  She couldn’t help but wonder...

 

  The street lights had completely ended by now, and the buildings in the area were few and far between, spaced out and looking a little worse for the ware. If it had been anyone other than Momo leading her here she’d probably be halfway back to home now, would have doubted their intentions (and probably their sanity) for even considering going to somewhere so derelict this late at night.

 

  But it’s Momo.

 

  Whatever’s inside Momo’s bag has been an insistent accompanying theme tune or sorts as they’ve moved, the repetitive shift and clank entirely off key to the disney song Momo had now moved onto humming. It was oddly soothing all the same, focusing on the rhythm of their shoes hitting sidewalk and the clink of metal with every step. Sana thinks she has a vague idea of what they’re about to do; she thinks it stems from a conversation they’d had a few nights ago, where they’d talked about anything and everything while falling asleep on Sana’s couch watching Momo’s favourite movie for the hundredth time.

 

  It was just sleep talk, really. A mumbled hidden desire to do something kind of bad just _once_ , while they still had the guise of being young and could blame any bad behaviour on a desperate need for teenage rebellion. She hadn’t thought Momo was listening, too busy mouthing the exchange on screen line for line as Mike and Sully discuss what to do about Boo, complete with facial expressions and gestures as big as she could with her arms wrapped around Sana’s waist.

 

  Clearly she had been, Sana watching as the older girl pulls herself up a thin, rickety fire escape on the side of an abandoned block of apartments, falling over the railings and landing safely in a jumbled heap of limbs on the floor. It’s barely been a moment before she’s back on her feet again, brushing herself off and fiddling with the catch release that would let the ladder drop to the ground.

 

  Sana winces at the grating metallic sound as Momo succeeds, the not-entirely-safe looking ladder screeching down with a resounding clang as descends a few feet in front of her. She eyes it dubiously. Looks up and can barely make out her favourite smile on the older girl’s face as she looks down at her expectantly.

 

  “Come on!”

 

  Her eyes flit from the heavily rusted rungs that had clearly seen better days to the wide, infectious grin waiting at the top.

 

  “You brought me here to kill me?”

 

  “Don’t be dramatic,” She can _feel_ the eye roll more than she can see it, hears the exasperation in her voice as she taps on the metal bars impatiently, “If you climbed up maybe you’d see why we came here.”

 

  She makes a noise of disagreement, a sceptical hum low in her throat.

 

  “Or you could just tell me before I fall off this rusty old ladder and snap my leg.”

 

  “As if I’d let that happen,” Momo snorts, “I’d catch you if you fell.”

 

  “What if you weren’t close enough to grab me?”

 

  “I’d find a way to throw myself down and cushion the fall.”

 

  Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. There was no possible way for anyone to react that quickly, and yet Sana still felt something warm up inside her chest at the silly (yet entirely sincere) statement.

 

  Somehow, Momo made the impossible seem entirely possible.

 

  Slender fingers wrap around cool metal, cringing at the paint and rust that flaked off in her hands as she tugged on them experimentally. She places a foot on the bottom rung, pushes herself up just to test if it could take her weight, and she hasn’t fallen flat on her ass yet so she presumes it’s safe.

 

  “This had better be worth dragging me across the entire town at this time of night.” She grumbles, words lacking any sort of bite that the older girl would take seriously as she pulls herself up slowly.

 

  She counts the steps; twelve, unnecessary, fear inducing steps that have her sucking in a breath every time she moves her foot away to climb another rung, liking the sound of her shoes scuffing against metal and the warm air filling up her lungs. And liking the feel of Momo’s fingers tugging at her hoodie as soon as her head appears at the top of the ladder, insistent and impatient and endearingly cute in the same way she’d find a puppy begging to go out and play. The comparison is entirely too fitting as Momo looks down with bright, wide eyes and a toothy grin, hauling the younger girl up the last few rungs onto the flat metal bars with a grunt.

 

  The fingers are tugging at her clothes again, pulling until she rises to her feet before slipping naturally into the space between her own. It’s a tight grip, Momo doesn’t do anything hardheartedly. It’s always everything she can give and not a single ounce of effort less. Her inability to know when to quit can be, _frustrating_ , at times - especially when it’s hurting her and Sana can do nothing but watch the fallout, but right now she’s never been more grateful for this stubborn trait, letting herself be dragged up flight after flight of derelict fire escape stairs and never quite managing to catch her breath.

 

  They reach the top before Sana even realises they’ve come to a halt, standing seven stories off the ground and swaying in the constant tickling summer breeze. It’s getting cooler and cooler as the night crawls by, chilled enough by now that Sana starts to drag the tops of her shoes against the back of her calves as she stands there and waits for Momo’s next move. Thrusts her hands deep into the warm pockets of her hoodie. And waits.

 

  Momo hums thoughtfully.

 

  Scratches her head pensively. Begins to shrug off her backpack until it’s dangling from her hand by a single strap.

 

  Gets a determined glint in her eye that Sana thinks she would be able to see even if she didn’t have the moonlight illuminating their faces in pale blues and greys. Eyes up the edge of the roof sitting a good two feet above her head.

 

  She isn’t remotely surprised when the bag (and whatever’s within it) gets tossed easily over the edge, disappearing and crashing noisily on the other side as metal clanks together. She’s not even remotely fazed as the older girl takes two steps back, until her hips press precariously against the thin, unsteady railings that are the only thing shielding both of them from a drop that Sana didn’t really think about until the moment Momo’s hand left hers.

 

  Momo dashes forward, using the momentum to propel herself as high into the air as possible and towards the ledge, succeeding and getting both hands to grip onto the edge and pull herself up with barely a grunt. Sana listens to the sounds of her shuffling above her, not able to fight a smile at the victorious expression glued to her face as she grins down at her. It’s a war she’s learned she’ll never win.

 

  “Come on!”

 

  “Momo, you _know_ I’m not gonna be able to pull myself up there.”  
  
  “I know,” Momo shrugs, easy grin still in place and kneeling forward just enough that her body leans over the edge of the rooftop, “that’s why I came up first, _duh_.” She stretches out a hand as if to solidify her point, making an impatient grabbing motion at the younger girl as she stares down at her.

 

  “ _Momooooooooo_.” She whines childishly.

 

  “ _Sanaaaaaaaaa_.” Momo mimics perfectly, lower lip jutting out exaggeratedly

 

  Sana raises a brow in disbelief, Momo just staring down at her expectantly. As though she wasn’t suggesting she jump towards a rooftop seven stories off of the ground. She sees the idea pop into Momo’s head as she hovers above her, chest puffing out dramatically and sporting her best, most hollywood worthy toothy grin she could muster. Short, little fingers wiggle enticingly.

 

  “Do you trust me?”

 

  “This is the worst re-enactment of Aladdin I’ve ever seen.”

 

  Momo grins.

 

  “I don’t know so much - me, the charismatic, charming rogue stealing you away in the middle of the night for an adventure. Sounds pretty spot on to me.”

 

  “In what universe are you a rogue in any way?”

 

  “The one where I heroically try and liven up our summer even though you’re being stubborn and whiny the entire time.” Momo deadpans with a well practiced eye roll.

 

  She does kind of look like a hero in Sana’s eyes right now, poised confidently and reaching out to pull her up onto the rooftop. There’s no hidden lamp in her pocket or magic carpet under their feet; just the two of them. And the moonlight. And an outstretched hand with a tiny, almost invisible white scar on the side of her thumb from when she tried climbing the fence when they were ten waiting for Sana’s to fit against it. Sana decides to stick her tongue out instead, eyes screwed tightly shut with her hands fisted defiantly by her side.

 

  “I didn’t hear any complaints about all those sleepovers all summer.” She counters.

 

  “Because I don’t have any,” Momo shrugs, “but you wanted ‘thrill’ and ‘adventure’” She air quotes sarcastically, face contorted mockingly, “so here we are!”

 

  She gestures to the vast, empty space around them, leering a little too precariously in her stance for Sana to feel comfortable. She takes a deep breath, fingers uncurling to run through her hair nervously.

 

  “Fine,” she mutters, loud enough for Momo to hear and get that wickedly smug grin on her face again, “you better catch me.”

 

  Momo waives away her concern with a dismissive wave, which does nothing to assure Sana as she steps back to gain the little bit of momentum she’ll need to reach Momo’s waiting hands. The railing presses against her back and she takes a deep breath, ignoring the bemused smile tugging at the corners of Momo’s lips at how seriously she’s taking this.

 

  She doesn’t like heights. Never has, which is why Momo’s always the one pulling herself up to Sana’s second story window and not the other way around, despite Momo’s bedroom window looking out over the conservatory on the back of her house. The height was an easy thing to ignore when she could feel the familiar weight of Momo’s hand in her own, the loud steps of their shoes ringing in her ears and drowning out any reason as they all but ran up the stairs to the top of the building.

 

  Momo’s right there though, even with a teasing smile. She trusts her.

 

  There’s a brief moment where there’s nothing holding her up after she jumps and her heart gets stuck in her throat, but it’s only for a moment, and then there’s firm, strong hands gripping at her wrists and hauling her up closer to the sky and the moon and the stars. Her feet scrabble against the old brick as she gets pulled over the edge, Momo doing most of the work and effort as she all but falls into the older girl, the pair tumbling back despite Momo’s efforts to steady them and keep them both upright.

 

  The concrete is cool under her palm but her knees are warm as they scrape against the rooftop, sucking in a stolen breath at the slight sting from freshly broken skin. She bites back a yelp at the unfiltered laugh that bubbles over Momo’s lips as she lays sprawled out on the ground, staring up at the night sky with a hand reaching up to cup the back of her head with a pained wince and a smile. She _heard_ the impact of Momo’s head hitting solid concrete more than saw it, eyes still scrunched tight from the jump with such blind faith it should have been cause for concern - but she’s just laughing.

 

  Maybe she’s still a few feet in the air; nothing under her feet to remind her that she’s grounded and no gravity to keep her down, because Momo’s laugh makes her feel like she’s floating on every jarring sound, flying higher and higher with every rising note and each dorky sounding gasp for air from the girl underneath her.

 

  Momo shifts and Sana belatedly realises she had an elbow in the other girls’ stomach and an absolute death grip on the hand that isn’t tentatively rubbing at the back of her skull. She moves to pull away but the fingers around her own tighten and yank her forwards with enough strength Sana finds herself sprawled on the concrete right next to Momo.

 

  The whole ‘blind trust’ narrative was being rewritten effective immediately as she looked up at the sky in disbelief.

 

  “Told you I’d catch you.”

 

  “I think you might have yanked my arm off.” Sana tears her eyes away from velvet night sky to look at the girl lying next to her.

 

  “Maybe, but I still caught you.”

 

  Momo pushes herself up, leaning back on her hands as her head twists around until they settle on her rucksack sitting quite dejectedly some few feet away from them. Sana watches her rise to her feet, envying a natural athleticism that Momo’s had her whole life. Long, gangly limbs that seem to stretch much further than Sana’s despite the younger girl being a good few inches taller (much to Momo’s chagrin), and it’s hidden beneath baggy, oversized fabric but there’s a strong, well built frame under there too.

  Watches as the brunette sets the bag at her feet and starts to rummage through whatever was inside. Considers replying to her last comment with something sarcastic or taunting, but settles on laying back down and counting the stars until she’s done.

 

  It only takes eleven until Momo’s face is hovering above her, the older girl crouching quietly next to her with her chin cradled in her palm. She doesn’t say a word, just waits until Sana gets to twenty nine with a small, satisfied nod, and smiles.

 

  “You ready lawbreaker?”

 

  She glances down to see a brand new spray can in Momo’s hand, finger hovering above the nozzle and another can extended for her to take. She does with a renewed grin, sitting up and letting the older girl pull her up to her feet.

 

  “Does it count if no one’s around to see us?”

 

  Momo shrugs.

 

  “A small technicality. As much as I’d love to spray the side of the school, or deface Im Jungwoo’s shitty motorbike, we also have one more year of school until we can leave and I don’t want to spend it locked up for petty crime.”

 

  Sana rolls her eyes.

 

  “They’re not gonna arrest you for drawing a dick on a motorbike, and even if they would - who’s to say we’d get caught?”

 

  “I’d rather not run the risk,” Momo begins to drag her towards the brick wall of the adjacent building, crumbling and dirty but otherwise a blank canvas, “now stop complaining and come draw with me.”

 

  Despite common misconceptions and the ever prevalent rumour mill of high school and living in a relatively small town, Sana wasn’t much of a rule breaker. Never went through the token rebellion that most teenagers do against their parents, always did her schoolwork on time and had only ever gotten into _one_ fight in her lifetime - but that had been in sixth grade and that guy was being a _jerk,_ so he deserved Sana’s tiny fist flying into his nose.

 

  And she liked it. She liked not matching everyone’s perception of her image, liked surprising people when she got some of the highest scores in her classes and she liked just staying at home in the comfort of her own (or Momo’s) room instead of claiming the party girl reputation she’d mysteriously been labelled with.

 

  (She genuinely has no idea where the idea even came from, if she’s being honest. Had a sneaking suspicion it’s partly to do with her brief stint on the cheer squad in freshman year and more than a few twisted words from the mouths of all the bitter boys she’s rejected.

 

  But that’s just high school, she supposes.)

 

  She liked being associated with Momo, though. It became apparent from the start that the two came as a package deal, and Sana reveled in the fact that everybody accepted this at face value and nothing more. Even if…

 

  But for the most part, all of her seventeen years of life had been rather uneventful and to the book. And, call it a relentless need for excitement and thrill that all the movies and books and stereotypes about being a teenager had fed her, but for the first time in her life she’d gotten an urge to do something bad.

 

  Not _bad_ bad, just, maybe something a little wrong. Something to instill a little adrenaline in her veins in an otherwise hazy summer of late night movie binges and trips to the convenience store before it closed at midnight. Netflix was both a gift and a curse, but Momo was more than content to marathon shows consecutively without complaint, but at some point it also hit her that they wouldn’t have all the time in the world to make mistakes that could be forgiven.

 

  She wanted-

 

  Well, she isn’t sure what she wanted, but Momo always does.

 

  Which is how she knew just where to take them both so that they could get up to a _little_ bit of mischief, give Sana the unmistakable thrill of a late night adventure and even commit a minor felony, even if there was no chance of getting caught or anybody else knowing what they’ve done.

 

  It was perfect, actually.

 

  And it was all Momo.

 

  She pulls away from the fingers threaded between her own, popping off the cap of the spray can experimentally and testing the weight of it in her hand, shaking it a few times (just because it felt right). Takes a quick glance to her right and see’s a mirrored grin on Momo’s face as she does the same, gesturing for Sana to make the first move.

 

  A wide, brilliant blue arc of paint appears in front of her, the loud hiss of the spray disturbing the quiet night and Sana can’t help but giggle. Another line follows, and another, until an ugly, misshapen smiley stares back at them both, and Momo laughs too.

 

  Momo’s hand reaches up and _of course_ it’s an offending hot pink that appears on the old brick next to her bright blue, the wonkiest circle Sana’s ever seen in her life reaching as high as Momo’s hand can go and all the way down to her toes too, taking up at least half of the space available. It doesn’t hurt her throat like she thought the fumes was, but she looks at Momo and sees the thoughtful smile as she holds up the can to her face, and Sana squints in the moonlight and even without her glasses can read the big, bold **_NON-TOXIC_ ** stretching along the side of the can.

 

  Momo’s eyes light up as she remembers something, running back to the bag she’d left on the other side of the rooftop and running back with it in hand. Sana can see inside and notices the spare hoodie that had been shoved inside (she’s prepared, Momo’s always prepared) and also-

 

  “Here,” Momo barely stifles an eye roll, holding out the spare pair of glasses that Sana usually keeps at her house for emergencies, “I thought you might forget them.”

 

  There’s that floating feeling of nothing again, which is something she learned to associate with all the little things Momo does for years now. It all started with the delayed realisation that Momo knew her just as well as she knew herself, if not better, and that she knew Momo just the same. And all the little things became bigger and more apparent as they got older; how Momo knows her orders off by heart, and how a single shared glance told them when either needed to intervene in an uncomfortable situation, and how Momo always made sure to remind Sana about the things she’s forget.

 

  Like her homework. Or a jacket when the weather got too cold. Or even her glasses.

 

  She takes them and settles them against her nose comfortably, sighing when the world becomes much clearer and she could actually distinguish the mole on Momo’s neck.

 

  “You couldn’t have given them to me back at my house?”

 

  Momo hums thoughtfully, turning away with the hint of a sly grin forming as she takes incredible interest in studying the wall.

 

  “Mm, I could have.”

 

  Sana watches as a hot pink pig appears somewhere near the top of the wonky circle. Takes a step forward just before Momo finishes and tags a streak of bright blue right in between his little piggy eyes, drawing a dramatic gasp from the older girl as she turns to her in betrayal.

 

  “After everything I’ve done for you…”

 

  She sprays two little lines just under his eyes.

 

  “There, now he’s got contour.”

 

  Momo grumbles something under her breath but doesn’t retaliate, shuffling a little further away from Sana to draw something far enough away that she hopefully couldn’t sabotage it. Sana shuffles a few steps closer, spray can hanging loosely in her hand but with no intent to actually do anything. Momo shoots a suspicious glare all the same, eyes narrowed and brows knotting together furiously as she angles her body to protect whatever new design she was painting on the wall. Sana takes two steps away and the tension in her body releases.

 

  “How did you even find this place?” Sana turns her attention to her section of the wall. Decides it needs a waving stickman on it somewhere.

 

  “I came down here the other day,” Momo stretches up to draw a crown on top of her pig, huffing in effort as she balances on the very tips of her toes, “remembered the old district existed and thought that nobody would mind what happens to it.”

 

  “You came down here at night?”

 

  Momo snorts.

 

  “No, you know I don’t like the dark. I came here on my board in the day, when you were off at your Grandparents about a week back.”

 

  Sana can picture Momo gliding downtown on her tatty, old longboard, making note of how long it took her to get here and hunting around until she found the very spot they were in now. It must have taken her the whole day. What’s more surprising is that Momo didn’t even drop any hint for the whole week that alluded to this spontaneous (or so she thought) trip, which means she must have been _really_ excited if she kept it from Sana.

 

  “We ran the whole way here in the dark.” Sana laughs fondly, teasing the other girl. For how well Momo seems to have planned this whole thing, she’s surprised the older girl forgot to carry a flashlight or even just use her phone as they made their way across town.

 

  “It’s not so scary when you’re here.” Momo purses her lips in thought. Something’s missing from her masterpiece. “and I guess I was really excited.” She follows up sheepishly, about to rub the back of her neck in nervous habit but Sana reaches out and stops her before fingers somehow stained with paint can reach. She smiles gratefully.

 

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. You’re _terrible_ at keeping secrets.”

 

  (She really was. Sana’s been able to prise information about her birthday _and_ Christmas presents out of her for the past four years.)

 

  Momo shrugs again. Sana’s hand falls back to her side.

 

  “It’s not a secret if you don’t ask. Do you think I should give him a moustache?”

 

  “Make it one of those cool curly ones.”

 

  Momo nods agreeably, hesitating for a moment before Sana extends her own can towards her. She takes it, makes quick work of what is actually a fairly decently drawn moustache and gives the younger girl a pleased grin.

 

  “Thank you though, Momo.” Sana murmurs softly, the older girl pausing halfway through tagging her signature just below her royal pig.

 

  She quirks a brow. “For what?”

 

  Sana takes in a deep breath. Can taste streaks of pink and blue in the back of her throat.

 

  “For… everything, I think. For being with me. And doing this for me. I really love you, you know?”

 

  She did. More than words could ever hope to describe, and more than could be attributed to any cliché label or textbook box that the world kept trying to place them into. Best friends, girlfriends, Sana and Momo-

 

  Sana and Momo.

 

  They were just, Sana and Momo.

 

  They don’t even really know what to call it, but they both know that they’re always going to be just - Sana and Momo.

 

  Momo shifts her weight between her legs, the way she did when she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words to say. Or her mouth wasn’t co-operating the way she wanted it to, or she couldn’t _quite_ figure out the jumbled sentences and statements from everything else in her head-

 

  Cool fingers pull on the sleeve of Sana’s hoodie. Slide against the fabric until they find her open palm waiting for her, slipping into the space between her own fingers and curling tightly. Momo gave a little squeeze. Sana rubbed her thumb against the back of her hand, bringing their conjoined hands up to her lips to press a small kiss against the smooth skin there.

 

  A few moments passed, and in each one Sana could feel everything she wanted to say filling it up, but she waited. Tapped a familiar rhythm against Momo’s hand in her own.

 

  “Every moment.” The older girl whispered after a while, eyes pointedly facing the wall instead of Sana.

 

  “Every moment?” She whispered back, stepping closer until Momo’s smaller body curved against her own instinctively. Could feel her shudder against her with a heavy breath.

 

  “Every moment. With you, I know.” She still wasn’t facing Sana, but there was a small smile stretching out her face as her eyes scanned the wall for something Sana couldn’t see. The sight made Sana’s heart hurt in the best way. “I always know, and I think you know too. That I-“

 

  She tapers off, eyes closing and breathing steadily. Pacing herself. Breathe in, breathe out.

 

  “That I love you, too. You know that.”

  There’s the unpredictable fireworks in her chest again, an uncontainable grin pulling at the corners of her lips until her eyes begin to disappear, but even with blurred vision all she can see is Momo.

 

  “I know.”

 

  “But sometimes I think that you _don’t_ know,” Momo stumbles out hastily, fingers curling a little tighter around Sana’s in frustration, “And you should know. Everyday.”

 

  “Momo,” She laughs fondly, years of love and affection sprouting through her chest, her lungs, her throat, “I know.”

 

  “But-“

 

  “Momo,” she says firmly, but still softly. It’s always soft with Momo. “I know.”

 

  All the bravado she’d sucked into her chest deflated in a long, shaky exhale, making her seem unbearably small in that moment. So she pulled the older girl into her, hand reaching up to cup the back of her head and tuck her against the crook of her neck. Momo resented those few extra inches of height she had on her, but it meant that Sana was _just_ tall enough that the older girl fit perfectly against her, nose pressed to her collarbone and shaky breaths skittering across her skin as arms wound tightly around her waist. Just, holds her there, just for a few moments.

 

  “Thank you.” Momo’s voice is small and muffled against her neck, lips ghosting over skin as she talks and Sana flinches unexpectedly. Can feel soft lips spread into a smile against her neck and doesn’t even bother fighting the grin that carves itself into her cheeks. She pulls away from the older girl, grin growing impossibly wider at the disgruntled noise of discontent that escapes from Momo as she does, cupping her cheeks in between her palms and relishes the adoration dripping from eyes kissed by moonlight.

 

  She must have done something wonderful in her past life. Must have saved an entire nation, or stopped a war, or even discovered the cure for some deadly disease to deserve the way Momo’s looking at her right now, all soft and pliant and full of such unadulterated love Sana wasn’t sure how she could ever mistake it for anything else. But she’s also looking at her expectantly, as if she’s waiting-

 

  Sana rolls her eyes affectionately.

 

  “You can ask, you know.”

 

  Momo shrugs sheepishly, burrowing a little closer into Sana’s embrace. Close enough that all it would take is a little stretch to press a kiss to the tip of her nose.

 

  Sana’s never been patient though, and Momo knows this. Her small giggle drifts across the rooftop when the younger girl caves almost immediately, kissing her nose as softly as she can. Momo leans into the touch and Sana can’t say no, peppering feather-light kisses anywhere possible; her cheek, her chin, stretching ever so slightly onto her tiptoes to leave a lingering kiss on her forehead that has Momo giggling louder than before, only to pull back and stroke her thumbs against the curve of her cheek. The older girl pushes into the touch and Sana’s heart swells three times bigger than humanly possible, thumping erratically against her chest and so fast she thinks it might just give in.

 

  Momo’s still waiting.

 

  Sana waits with her. Absorbs everything around them in that moment; the way the wind brushes against her legs persuasively, and the way the moon is sitting there silently. Just watching, waiting for the next scene in this cheesy movie along with thousands of stars who’ve probably seen the same old love story countless times before. But not this one.

 

  Not Sana and Momo.

 

  “Come on,” Momo murmurs, low and warm and close enough that Sana swears she can feel the movements of her lips as they spoke, “Kiss me.”

 

  All it takes is the tiniest movement to comply, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side and feeling Momo’s lips move against her own, slow and languid. Like time itself was on their side, and nothing else mattered. And it was just the two of them. Standing on a rooftop sometime after midnight without a care in the world as long as they had each other. Full lips stretched into a smile with every awkward bump of Momo’s nose against Sana’s clunky glasses, giggling into each kiss until Sana was laughing too, floating somewhere in the clouds with Momo and the moon.

 

  She doesn’t think she’ll ever come back down.

**Author's Note:**

> i started off liking this a lot but then like 545874 potential different directions invaded my mind and this is nowhere near how it was supposed to be but hey,, it's,, whatever i guess, if u liked it please validate me through kind comments or not that's cool too


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